Chronicles of Godric's Hollow
by tea break
Summary: What it is like to have James and Lily Potter for parents? How to deal with Ron and Hermione, a couple in love? A diary of 16-year old Harry describing events of his summer holidays at home. AU
1. Chapter 1

3rd July

I'm at home just for 3 days and so many things have happened already. The biggest news is that dad got promoted just yesterday, so he's a Head of the Auror department now! Sirius stopped by to celebrate and dad kept teasing him about being his big boss. Sirius just laughed but I can tell he's already planning a big prank on his new „boss". Poor dad, he never sees it coming.

Second big news is that Ron and Hermione FINALLY got together. Ron took up the nerve at King's Cross and invited Hermione to „cimena to watch a flim". (It was my tip actually. Hermione kept blubbering lately about not seeing a film for ages...Ron of course didn't have a clue what she was talking about. Considering myself an expert (I've seen two films already) I explained to him the advantages of sitting in a dark place very close to a girl. He's a fast learner. It wasn't the smoothest of invitations though. Ron stuttered about the weather and how it is ideal for „flims" and then he blurted out his invitation and turned bright red. I felt really sorry for him, but she agreed anyway so now they are officially a couple for WHOLE THREE days. Ron keeps me updated.

Third news is that a new family has moved to Godric's Hollow to the old mansion on the hill. For this Merlin forsaken hole of a village this is a big deal to gossip about, because pretty nothing ever happens here. Plus in the house there are like 40 rooms and a tower! and it was abandoned for ages. Everybody is overexcited about who could possibly afford a megahouse like that. I think it probably will be a snob family with an army of house elves. Personally I find the house so creepy that I'd bet anything I posses that the newcomers are former Slitherins and worshippers of dark magic. Dad probably thinks the same because he doesn't seem to be overly excited about their arrival either.

5th July

This village is officially mental. I am so ashamed I must live here. Every single inhabitant (magical or not) has joined the „welcome visit" to say hello to our new neighbours. All 83 people (except for Mrs Darling who has a broken leg and has to stay behind (very unwillingly of course) and my parents who are on the Auror conference in London) showed up unannounced at the front door of the old mansion carrying various meat pies and treacle tarts. It was so embarrassing. I refused to join when they came to collect me and was publicly proclaimed „a naughty boy" by Mr Skinner, an old muggle living by the church. I'm seriously considering moving out to Weasleys.

6th July

It turned out that our new neighbours are muggles. Wizard part of the village is slightly disappointed, muggle part doesn't have a clue. Honestly, I couldn't care less.

Ron and Hermione had a second date yesterday. Ron flued me right after that and squealed like a little girl. Then he described everything that happened. And I mean EVERYTHING. I wish I hadn't asked.

8th July

It's so boring here. I hope something happens. Anything. I wish we could visit someone or someone visits us. Last summer we stayed at Sirius' place in London and it was so cool. We were at Diagon Alley all the time. This year he got himself a new girlfriend so I can forget even visiting him. The only prospect of entertainment is celebration of loony Mr. Frederics' 102nd birthday. And I don't need telling you that it's not much. Merlin, everybody here is so old. People under 20 were probably banished from this bloody village.

My last chance is to force myself the Weasleys and spend the whole summer in the Burrow. But with Ron and Hermione dating I'd be like a third wheel. Merlin, I need new friends.

On the top of everything, my Firebolt has a problem with a starter twig so my dad sent it to some broom service called „Problem with a twig? We will mend it, quick!" which really scares me. I begged him not to send it anywhere, that I will repair it myself with my Broom Repair Service Kit but he told me that it would be cheaper to pay for mending my broom to a professional than to buy me another one. It really hurt. I got excellent broom repairing skill by the way. So they will hopefully mend it in about 7 days. But still, it's the whole WEEK! I'll be bored to death by then.

9th July

Mum told me to stop whining and find myself something useful to do. She immediately send me to Mrs Darling (local gossip lady) to help her around the house. I can't describe how incredibly joyful prospect it was. For the rest of the afternoon (during my summer holiday I need to point out) I pushed Mrs Darling in her wheelchair around the village, so she could collect some more of her „absolutely fascinating" stories about all of our neighbours. When we were going up the hill towards the mansion I saw our new neighbours for the very first time. Two adults and a girl about my age. They all looked very neat and pretty, especially the girl. Mrs Darling told me their names are Mr. and Mrs. Hewitt and the girl is their only daughter Maggie. He is rumoured to be top manager of some top company and she a high society lady. Why they moved here then is beyond me.

10th July

Remus visited us today and brought pretty exciting news. He's going to teach at Hogwarts next year! A DADA teacher! I can't believe my luck. After a year with half-blind Mr Hellion (a self-proclaimed dementor expert and who wasn´t even able to produce a fully shaped Patronus) and half-mad Mrs Bennet (who was clearly unable to produce any magic at all) I seriously started to doubt the standards of Hogwarts education. But this returned my faith in Dumbledore's common sense. I wrote it immediately to Ron and Hermione but didn't get any reaction so far. I'd rather don't want to know what kept them from replying.

11th July

Today I saw Maggie Hewitt again. She was wandering around the lake apparently looking for some sort of entertainment in this bloody village. Good luck with that, I've been trying in vain for the last 16 years. Finally she ended up sitting on the pier. I wanted to say hello but decided not to. Muggles are usually nervous around me for some reason and I didn't want to scare her. So I stayed in my favourite spot by the old willow behind the bushes where I am pretty much hidden from view. I tried to mind my own businessbut ended up watching her anyway. I am curious, I admit that. And she's something new here (which doesn't happen very often)...she also happen to look quite pretty. Anyway, she was bathing her legs in the water...and seemed really sad, I don't know maybe it was something about the way water reflected on her face or the way her long dark hair shielded her eyes from view... she reminded me of Merpeople from Hogwarts lake. Just far better looking, obviously.

Then I realised how terribly lonely it must be for her to move in this sleepy hollow where she doesn't know anyone (not that there's anyone to know) with virtually no source of entertainment. It reminded me of my first days at Hogwarts, I felt terribly lost and lonely and was silently cursing my parents for having childless friends. Duncan, my best friend till then, was a muggle and moved to London with his parents shortly after my 11th birthday. It was by far my worst birthday ever, I even cried (still can't believe it). But I met Ron shortly afterwards and forgot all about Duncan and my loneliness. I have a fairly short memory span now I think of it.

Originally I went to the lake to write letter to Ron but couldn't stop staring at Maggie Hewitt. Even though she didn't move much (she was reading a book) I found her fairly fascinating. I blame it on the utter boredom I was experiencing last few days. Right when I decided I'd better go home before she notices I was here (and I completely embarrass myself) she suddenly started to sway and twitch on the spot. At first I thought she was laughing but she doesn't look particularly happy and I realized she's probably having some sort of stroke or spasm. I sprang to my feet ready to help her. She yelped as soon as she spotted me and started to twitch even more violently. I admit I must have looked pretty weird jumping out of bushes all of a sudden, with twigs in my hair (as I discovered later). By the time I reached her she was silently cursing and tugging at her right leg so urgently I was sure she will soon dislocate her ankle. I lifted my hands in surrender. She didn't stop watching me warily as though I was an escaped convict.

„Hey", I smiled at her. She just stared back but stopped tugging at her leg. A good sign.

„Can I help you somehow?", I tried my best to sound friendly and charming but she still looked at me suspiciously. She measured me from head to toe and I felt I was starting to blush. Why am I always like that around girls? Is it some sort of curse or something?

„Um, my leg got stuck", she admitted reluctantly and pointed at her unfortunate foot that indeed was tangled up in some slimy green stuff under water. I immediately identified it as a fine specimen of Strangleweed. Ignatius Billberry (local lunatic) grows it here for his personal use (he stuffs it in his pipe and gets even more loony after that).

„I can help you with that but I need you to stop twitching for a while, ok?" She nodded shortly.

So I kneeled down beside her desperately trying to remember how to persuade Strangleweed to let go of things. I wished (for the first time in my life) I was Neville Longbottom. He would immediately know what to do. The only thing I remembered was that it likes to wrap around objects, which was already pretty obvious. Lead by a sudden crazy idea I picked up a long twig and started to tease the weed. All the time I felt a scrutinizing gaze of Maggie Hewitt boring into me. My face was on fire, my hands were sweaty and I prayed it worked. After few painfully long moments it really started to leave Maggie's leg and wrap around the stick. Then I made the fatal mistake and reached into the water to free her foot completely. As soon as I touched her leg she kicked me with all her might into my butt. I didn't expect that, lost my balance and fell head first into the lake.

The water was surprisingly warm but that was about everything pleasant in this situation. Before I could even reach the surface to take a breath I felt Strangleweed wrap around my legs and upper body pulling me down and I knew I was in trouble. I cursed my chivalrous nature (my stupidity more like) and tried with all my remaining force to reach into the back pocket of my jeans to get to my wand. But the more I struggled the less possible was to make any movement at all. I was quickly losing my consciousness. Bloody Maggie Hewitt. Maggie bloody Hewitt. I could her face even then, in the last minute of my life. As if she came to reassure herself that indeed I won't come up to the surface ever again. Her beautifully sad eyes were floating just inches above mine and then darkness swallowed me completely. When I woke up I was laying on the pier coughing violently. In a mad second I thought it was all a dream but then I tasted the bitter lake water in my mouth and there were still pieces of strangleweed wrapped around my hands. I spotted Maggie Hewitt breathing heavily few feet away from me. She was drenched in water from head to toe and she was shivering quite prominently. When she realized I gained consciousness her eyes widened and she sprang quickly but somewhat unsteadily to her feet. As I watched her picking up her things I wanted to stop her, to thank her for saving my life (even though she kicked me into the lake herself). But before I collected myself she was gone.

12th July

This evening an owl came from Ron carrying a very brief note about having Lupin as a DADA teacher being great news and him talking to me later. Ron was never a lengthy writer but since he started dating Hermione his letters are barely two-sentence long. I can imagine he's got better things to do now. Well, I'd rather don't imagine.

I'm losing my friends because they prefer to snog each other. I don't blame them. Snogging is fun. I'd snog someone gladly, if there was anyone around to snog...I want to go back to Hogwarts and find myself a girlfriend. Life is so hard sometimes.

13th July

Today I was woken by various high pitched noises. It turned out to be a bunch of squeaking girls who were passing by our house. I didn't recognize any of these girls, in fact I never thought that there could be so many girls at once in Godric's Hollow. They all practically danced around one Maggie Hewitt and I realized that they probably came to pay her a noisy visit. Maggie (thank Merlin) wasn't squeaking nor giggling and looked fairly embarrassed. And fairly beautiful. No weed in her hair this time. All of the girls (including Maggie) were dressed in pink something, although some of them could hardly be described as dressed at all. It took me a while to process the whole situation and when I finally did it they were already gone. (I am pretty slow, maybe it's because I half-drowned in the lake just yesterday).

Girls are one big puzzle to me. With all their pink stuff and that annoying giggling. Honestly, who in their right mind would wear a pink tutu? I went to bed again and ended up having series of pink dreams. I hate my life.

14th July

Ron and Hermione have been here today. They stopped by on their way to visit Hermione's parents. (Their relationship is obviously getting serious:) It's kind of fun to watch them stealing glances at each other and secretly holding their hands whenever they think nobody's watching. They seem so happy - pink cheeks, glassy eyes, goofy smile... Hermione is bearing it better than Ron, her cheeks are considerably less pink but she wears that same goofy smile.

I was really looking forward to see them but in the end it wasn't that great. I felt alone around them. They try to act casual as they always have (for my sake I suppose) but I can tell that something's changed. We always were a trio of friends, but from now on it will be a couple of them and a single me. I even start to miss their constant bickering. They're too kind to each other all of a sudden. Ron started to be really protective over Hermione. I can't even tease her anymore without him giving me deathly glares. It's seriously disturbing. I'm really trying not to be jealous but Merlin it's SO hard.

15th July

Dad got back from work with a little card on his forehead that stated: „Who's your boss? I'M YOUR BOSS. Say it!" It seems to be attached by a permanent sticking charm. Dad keeps repeating that it is not as bad as it looks and that certainly Sirius wouldn't do such a thing to him. But we all know the truth.

16th July

By 4 in the morning after a sleepless night full of fruitless attempts to cancel one particular permanent sticking charm it started to be pretty clear that the bloody little card won't come off of dad's face not only without fight but not at all. In fact the only thing we've managed so far was to break several plates including mum's favourite china (done by dad throwing dishes in frustration), give my dad a black eye (mum's work – revenge for the china) and puke all over the sofa in the living room after eating the entire jar of grandma's homemade chocolate cream (my work, don't ask).

Around 5 in the morning dad officially banished Sirius from the circle of his closest friends and started cutting his face out of all family photos. I was promised to get a new godfather promptly.

At 8:30 Sirius stopped by and casually wiped the card off of my dad's forehead with one smooth flick of his wand. Dad who was half conscious at that time just silently wept in gratitude.

It's like that all the time. As soon as my dad gains back his dignity he will start to plan a revenge. Mum will threaten to divorce him if he will continue with this madness but will eventually end up helping him anyway. I just wish I had a normal family.


	2. Chapter 2

17th July

I finally got my broom back (after whole 9 DAYS!) and went to fly it around. The starter twig still refuses to obey me but, WOW, the broom is now faster than ever. I almost hit the only tree in our garden and got another unwanted bath in the lake before I finally managed to handle it. I wish a manager of Puddlemere United could see me how I cross the sky at the speed of light, I have no doubt he'd accept me immediately in the team. But there is no bloody chance a manager of any Quidditch team will even accidentally get his foot in this sleepy hollow. Because, obviously, it's a sleepy hollow. So in order to move my Quidditch career considerably forward I decided to fly to the biggest Quidditch training centre in London and show my newly gained skills to everyone willing to watch. I plan on leaving Godric's Hollow tomorrow before dawn, like that I can be back at home before curfew preferably with signed contract. I can already hear crowds of girls screaming my name.

18th July

My flight plan had to be modified slightly. Partly because I overslept but mainly due to the preparations for Mr. Frederics' birthday party in which my mum got me involved (as usual against my will).

So instead of thrilling prospect of flying to London to become a Quidditch star I spent all day sitting in the backyard of Mrs. Darling's house cutting smiling animals out of paper. I also need to point out that all the time I had to bear a piercing sunlight that was mercilessly burning my back (risking skin cancer) and I was sweating like a troll. The only positive side of this _enlightening_ afternoon would be the presence of Maggie Hewitt (only teenage person among hundred-year-olds) had she talked to me or otherwise acknowledged my presence. I even embarrassed myself so far as to say _hello_ to her. She just looked up from her paper sheep and nodded. _Nodded! _That bloody woman can't be bothered to say hello to a person she nearly drowned just few days ago!

As if it wasn't enough I was given the _honour_ of becoming a member of the organizing committee responsible for Mr. Frederics' surprise party. The committee otherwise consists of three members: Mrs. Darling, of course, responsible for refreshing beverages, Mr. Skinner local "opera singer" will choose the "right" music (Merlin help us all) and Maggie Hewitt was established as a person responsible for flower decorations. Me personally, was chosen to do the most "honourable" thing of all – I will handwrite (with my own hand!) all 83 invitations and deliver them personally to all intended recipients.

I know I was complaining about lack of entertainment but _please _this is just ridiculous. I would love to do anything and I mean _anything_ but organizing a muggle birthday party for a 102-year-old history teacher who might just as well drop dead at any moment. I wouldn't be surprised if he was already a ghost without anybody noticing it. I am officially sabotaging the whole project and tomorrow morning will be on my way to London.

19th July

It's official – my mum is a Legilimens. I always suspected she can see right through me suspiciously well but this time she can't deny it. She caught me at the front door this morning. I mean _please_ there is no way she was there by sheer coincidence. At 6 in the morning! She must have known I will try to run for it because she _read my mind_! I might have tried to use my usually perfectly reliable verbal escape techniques and come up with some convincingly innocent story about why I am up this early, but unfortunately I had my broom with me and a bag packed with chocolate frogs and little juice boxes. And frankly she doesn't have to be Legilimens to see through that. So my mum sent me back to my room without any breakfast AND she confiscated _my broomstick_! I am shocked beyond words. I know I wasn't supposed to run from home but she could trust me a little. It's not like I wasn't planning to go back ever again. I never had a high opinion about my parents but _this_...this is just a low blow. It is so obvious that she wants to prevent me from becoming an internationally famous Quidditch player and ultimately make my life miserable.

I swear I will never speak to her again. I locked myself in my room and immediately sent a message to Ron where I begged him to come for me and take me to the Burrow.

20th July

I am still waiting for Ron's reply. I haven't eaten for one day and a half and am seriously starving. You can't even rely on your friends these days.

21st July

I was forced out of my room by unbearable hunger and was immediately caught by my mum (again!) and forced to participate in our household routine. I still don't speak to her and can tell she was ashamed by her previous inexcusable behaviour towards me. It didn't stop her from loading me with huge amount of chores though. And she didn't give me my broomstick back either.

In the afternoon Maggie Hewitt stopped by and said "Hello" to me for the first time. But that was about everything she said to me. She just handed me list of detailed schedule for all our "committee duties" where I found out that for the next 3 days I am supposed to write and distribute all the invitation, and indignant letter from Mrs. Darling where she gave vent to her utter disappointment with the fact that I didn't show up at the first committee meeting, she then expressed hope I will come at least to the next one which turned out to be tomorrow morning.

Even though the letter was quite brief it took me several minutes to read it because the whole time Maggie Hewitt was piercing me with her X-ray gaze. I ended up with my face as red as a Griffindor banner, unable to produce a single sound. I guess I should be used not to being able to decently communicate with the opposite sex (if I don't count my mum and Hermione, but really Hermione is more like a bloke to me) but it never fails to annoy me. I must have looked like a total prick because she stopped staring daggers at me, gave me a funny look then nodded (I don't know what is it with her and nodding) and left me with my pride in pieces. I wish I had my father's overconfidence, he had never had trouble talking to women. No, I inherited his wobbly knees instead. I will die a virgin. Come on, even little squeaky Colin Creevey has a girlfriend!

22nd July

This morning I was surprised when I found myself on the way to the committee meeting. Undoubtedly to embarrass myself even further. All the way to Mrs Darling's house I was consoling myself that it's for a good cause - helping to organize a surprise party for an old weirdo - but as soon as I reached Mrs Darling's porch, all decorated with various paper animals, I knew I am just kidding myself. It will be a nightmare as were all the other parties organized by her.

My worst fears were confirmed when after force-fed dozen of caramel balls (that efficiently glued my jaws together) I was informed that despite my irresponsible attitude I was still given the opportunity to_ recite a poem _at the birthday party. Even the caramel balls in my stomach started to protest.

"And it is not just any poem. It is _the poem_ written by Mr Skinner himself!" beamed Mrs Darling as she waved her hand in a vague direction of Mr Skinner, currently reading a newspaper in one of her many flower-patterned armchairs.

"Why?" was the only thing I was able to get through my clogged jaws, feeling I might faint at any moment.

"Why what, darling?"said Mrs Darling blinking several times. At this point I need to tell you that Mrs Darling is a very small skinny old lady with rather prominent bun on top of her head and even more prominent bulging grey eyes hidden behind pair of magnifying glasses passed as spectacles. So I don't need to mention that to actually see her blinking at you is a very traumatic experience.

"Why am I supposed to read a poem written by Mr. Skinner? Why can't he read it himself?" I didn't give up.

"Well, young boy, it is a very rude question, don't you think?" She replied acidly, and her blinking became even more threatening. I wanted to argue that it was a perfectly logical question but under the weight of Mrs. Darling's glare I decided against it. Instead I just mutely stared at her fast-blinking eyes like a hypnotized rabbit.

"I'll do it." A soft female voice came from the corner of the room and both Mrs Darling and I found ourselves staring in disbelief at Maggie Hewitt. "I don't mind reading poetry." She added smiling shyly.

"Well, if Harry here doesn't mind" Mrs Darling turned to me questioningly and I shook my head vehemently, "it's settled then!" she exclaimed finally, clapping her hands.

"T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U!" I mouthed gratefully to Maggie. She just nodded (aaaarggghh) and immediately let herself be absorbed by a bouquet of artificial flowers in front of her. I would be rather annoyed by the lack of communication from her side if it wasn't for Mr Skinner who chose that very moment to perform a new song he just picked up for the party. That distracted me efficiently. I wish I was deaf (like he is).

23rd July

My right hand is hurting - I have a huge blister on my thumb and I can't feel all other fingers but I succeeded in finishing all 83 invitation letters. I lost the whole day of my life over it and was cursing old Mr Frederics the whole time (I am very proud of that). But I got rid of the most boring task anyone could have ever charged me with (including all History of Magic homework!).

Ron finally replied to my letter. He and Ginny will come to visit me as soon as possible and check if I am alright. Even though the reply came way too late (if I was in a grave danger I would be long dead by now) I am happy to see Ron again. Why is he bringing Ginny with him is beyond me though.

24th July

Mum woke me up this morning at 7 to make me help her prepare catering for guests that will come today. At first I got seriously freaked out that she somehow screened my mind deep enough to find out about "Ron and his rescue mission" until I remembered that the Dursleys announced their visit a week ago. And I thought that my life couldn't get any worse.

Whenever I hear the name Dursley, I get a stomach ache. Seriously. Aunt Petunia, uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley are our relatives from my mum's side (dad tends to tease her about that) and they are Muggles. Not that there is anything wrong about Muggles, but there is definitely something wrong about the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia is my mum's sister, she is bony, toothy, and boring. She hates magic and whenever my dad or I happen to be near her, she looks like she's about to sneeze. Uncle Vernon is even worse, he looks like a permanently angry rhinoceros with a moustache and acts like one. And then there is my cousin Dudley. Porky, beefy creature whose only pleasure in life is food (preferably in enormous portions) and abusing anything living. When I was little my mum used to threaten to send me to live with the Dursleys when I was naughty. After that I was the nicest kid in the history, I'd rather sell myself to slavery than live with the Dursleys.

"Why are they coming again?" I asked my mum half-asleep, even forgetting I am not supposed to talk to her at all.

"To bring you a birthday present." She stated absentmindedly, from behind a pile of peeled potatoes.

"Couldn't they just send it over?" I suggested remembering the present they got me for my 16th birthday – a colouring book.

"Don't be like that, Harry. They want to see you at least once a year."

"Yeah, sure." I smirked sarcastically. The last time they were here uncle Vernon refused to look at me at all and I was forced to entertain Dudley who is too fat for any sport and too stupid for any conversation. I ended up giving him hordes of chocolate (I got for my birthday by the way!) just to keep him from torturing neighbour's cat.

"They will sleep over." My mum added, sounding just as excited as I felt about that.

At 11:00 our doorbell rang, with all three Dursleys in all their whole glory at our front door. Mum and aunt kissed each other's cheek very briefly, uncle Vernon just jerked his head in a vague direction of my dad who smiled painfully. Thankfully nobody acknowledged my presence and I felt utterly relieved, until I spotted Dudley's numb stare. Oh, not that again.


	3. Chapter 3

25th July

I am still a bit in shock from the past events, and I feel it still must have further consequences especially for me. But when I think of it what worse can happen to me? My broom is already confiscated and it´s not like grounding me would make any difference, as there is nowhere to go anyway…

Yesterday afternoon started pretty innocently. All the food that we managed to cook made everyone pretty much occupied (even though Dursleys were eyeing it suspiciously), and conversation was, thank Merlin, scarce. As I correctly suspected my birthday present could have been very easily sent over in a very small package as it turned out to be mini embroidery set. Apparently exactly what a teenage _boy _needs for his coming of age birthday. I pretended I would have a lot of fun with it (while throwing it to dustbin) and everyone smiled (or grimaced) politely. My dad was trying to pass jokes around the table to break the obvious tension, but the only person who laughed was himself. I didn't even listen to him as I was sitting next to Dudley hypnotized by the way he was practically inhaling his food in such portions (not to mention the weird noises he was emitting throughout the whole process) and with such vehemence that I started to be afraid he might accidently swallow me as well.

When we finally finished our lunch I volunteered to wash the dishes (anything to get out of the room) and was hoping that everyone will simply forget about my existence. No such luck. I had barely finished washing the last plate when a huge porky shadow appeared behind my back. It was of course Dudley who was sent to make me a company. Neither of us looked very happy by the prospect. I felt like a real birthday boy. After several fruitless attempts to start an intelligent conversation, I gave up and suggested to take Dudley with me to distribute all the invitations to that bloody birthday party. He looked at me dumbly (nothing unusual) so I took it as yes and we set off for the trip. Well, it could have hardly been described as a trip…although at first I was having a lot of fun watching Dudley fuming and burping his way across our village, but then he became dangerously purple and after another five minute walk I was forced to support his sweating form (I don't need to mention that he weighs about as much as a baby whale). When we got Mrs Peeks house (some 100 yards from our house) I felt like I ran a marathon. So much for cunning ideas. After seeing my purple face, Mrs Peeks took pity of me and offered to entertain Dudley while I went around the village. It took me several minutes to collect my breath enough to thank her. I knew I shouldn't have let the poor lady take care of my cousin as she obviously didn't know what she was signing up for, but my back ached irritably and just the image of half carrying half dead Dudley the rest of the journey brought tears to my eyes. I instructed Mrs Peeks few crucial facts about Dudley that may save her life, like not going too close to him while he's eating, at first she laughed (obviously mistaking my well-meant advices for a joke) but she quickly realized that I was dead serious and that efficiently wiped the smile off her face. I quickly waved her goodbye before she could change her mind.

I took my time distributing invitations all around Godric's Hollow but not too much time, as I still wanted Mrs Peeks to be alive when I got back. Some of the villagers were real nice and I got a piece of pudding from Mrs Grey and one chocolate frog from Mr Barnaby, but most of the local inhabitants just closed the door on my face the moment they got the letter, Mrs Goldsmith even sent her dogs on me, she later on came to apologize to my mum that she had mistaken me for her cousin Mr Leary (who's been unsuccessfully trying for several years to get back his money he once lent to Mrs Goldsmith). When I got to the Hewitt mansion nobody was home except for their servant Gerhard who promised to give the invitation to his masters as soon as they got home. But as I was going from their front door I tripped over an old garden hose and fell over (it happens to me all the time these days) I could swear I heard a soft girly giggle. And I doubt Gerhard could chuckle like that.

When I reached Mrs Peeks to pick up Dudley I was surprised to find her in good moon, I understood shortly afterwards when I entered the living room where Dudley was spread-eagled on the sofa. For a mad second I thought that Mrs Peeks killed him (not that I would blame her, but for me it would mean a lot of unpleasant interrogation), then I heard a distinct snoring. It turned out that Mrs Peeks is indeed a very cunning lady and used the first opportunity to smuggle a sleeping potion into Dudley's tea. I was happy for her but less so for myself as I had to somehow transport Dudley back to our house and even though our house was just 100 yards away, it seemed more like journey around the world now. After several painful minutes when I tried in vain to lift Dudley off the sofa, Mrs Peeks finally wiped the tears of laughter off her eyes and took pity of me. She lent me a carriage that she usually uses to transport mulch in her garden. With our combined forces we then boarded the unconscious hippo on the carriage and I got on my journey home.

I was silently praying to almighty Merlin that nobody will notice Dudley's indecent arrival but aunt Petunia has eyes of a hawk and as soon as I approached within the seeing distance of our house a high-pitched squeal informed me that indeed I wouldn't pass unnoticed.

Aunt Petunia was at our side within nanoseconds closely followed by fuming uncle Vernon. While whaling aunt was trying to wake up Dudley, who was snoring comfortably, by shaking his shoulders violently, uncle Vernon directed his attention to me. For the first time in several years he looked straight at me and I wished he didn't. His beefy face got even more purple than usual and huge vein was pulsing at his forehead, threatening to explode at any moment.

"What did you do to him, boy?" He spluttered.

"Nothing." I replied automatically, not truly believing it would work.

"What did you do to him?" Bellowed uncle Vernon, baring his little yellow teeth at me.

"Come on, Vernon, I believe there is a perfectly logical explanation for this unfortunate situation…" Dad came to my defence, unfortunately unable to suppress amusement in his voice. Uncle Vernon turned at him and although my father is a very brave man he stopped smiling immediately. It is wise not to tempt a livid wolverine.

"He stayed for a while at Mrs Peeks, while I was distributing invitations, and I guess she accidentally swapped her calming potion with his tea." I tried to explain in desperate attempt to save my father's life, because uncle Vernon started to look particularly murderous.

"This bloody village is full of LUNATICS!" Resonated uncle Vernon, looking pointedly at my father. "I won't stay here for another minute!" And with these words he heaved Dudley unceremoniously over his shoulder only to drop him immediately back onto the pavement. Apparently Dudley's "baby fat" (as aunt Petunia often described Dudley's elephant features) was too much even for his rhino father. After final nasty look my father's way uncle Vernon grabbed Dudley by his ankles and started to drag him in the direction of their car. If I weren't in shock of the whole event I would have laughed to watch Dudley's head lolling from side to side occasionally bumping over little stones on the way. Aunt Petunia followed immediately in her husband's wake whining like an injured squirrel, not bothering to give my mum even a side-glance.

We stayed in front of our house unable to say anything. The first one to recover was my dad who patted me on the shoulder approvingly. "Good job, son." He winked and led my mum (still processing what exactly happened) to the house.

26th July

As I correctly suspected previous events have consequences for me. I was forbidden to ever let my muggle relatives alone with witch or wizard under the penalty of eternal banishment from the house. Whatever, really.

The good news is that Ron finally managed to get his lazy butt in here. The bad news is that he indeed took Ginny with him. I don't feel very comfortable to be around Ginny these days (well, I've never felt really), although I have to give her credit for managing to get my broom back for one day - under the force of Ginny's falsely innocent smile my mum melted enough to let me have my broom back for the whole day so I could (and here I rephrase) "go to play around a little". Ginny smirked to that statement and I felt utterly embarrassed.

"Are you ready to play?" Ginny whispered to me on our way out of the house and I shivered involuntarily. I really don't know how to deal with this kind of situations. To be frankly honest I don't know how to deal with any situation somehow (even marginally) involving a girl.

At this point I should explain the real weigh of my suffering here. Ginny and I have a highly disturbing common _history_ - before last summer Ginny had taught me how to kiss. Not that I wanted her to, I swear. We were simply drinking stolen fire whiskey that Fred smuggled from Filch's office one night and around 2 in the morning Ginny and I were the only ones sober enough to still sit upright. That was when she came up with an idea to improve our snogging skills by practicing on each other. At the sight of my frightened face she correctly concluded that I have no experience what so ever in that matter, and she took it as her personal goal to teach me how to snog properly. So the following few days became highly traumatizing and uncomfortable as she kept ambushing me at most unexpected places, kissing me forcefully against my will. It still gives me nightmares when I imagine what would her brothers do to me if they found out. Even Ron doesn't have a clue and I'd rather dance naked in front of Snape than to tell him.

I therefore consider my highly jumpy and touchy behaviour around Ginny as perfectly understandable. But apparently I am the only one. Everybody else thinks I fancy her. That's why they are taking her everywhere with them whenever I'm supposed to be around as well. It surely gives them a twisted satisfaction that they might help me to finally have a proper snog. What they don't know is that we already had SNOGGED! It's a pure torture not to tell them, but I still want to live long enough to maybe kiss someone on my own accord, so I hold my tongue. Ginny had long got past her crush on me (which I am entirely grateful for) unfortunately she replaced it with a new hobby – she just loves preparing embarrassing situations for me and then rejoices in watching me suffer. I honestly don't understand women at all. Today for instance she asked me to put sun cream on her back while she was wearing only her tiny bikini. I froze and unable to do anything else I simply turned and walked back to the house. But she found me there and threw an ice cube behind my t-shirt offering to fish it out herself. I just whimpered weakly (the ice cube was really cold) and locked myself in the bathroom. I refused to come out till they came to collect me for dinner where Ginny managed to spill hot onion soup into my crotch. I hate onion soup. I was on the verge of tears when she started to rub my jeans with a napkin under the pretence of cleaning it. She was obviously enjoying herself, as was everybody else. My parents' faces were deep red from restrained laughter; Ron didn't even bother to restrain anything and was literally howling. I hate them all.

I am now locked in my room afraid to fall asleep. Ginny is capable of anything, she might somehow get in here and who knows what she'd do to me this time…

27th July

I feel terrible. I didn't sleep all night. Ginny didn't visit me which is good but she is still here which is bad. When I left my room I didn't even bother to check if she's anywhere near, as she will always find me anyway. And indeed when I was quietly enjoying my breakfast in the living room she came and _kissed me_ (again!) on my mouth casually as if she was doing it every morning. I felt like weeping. Why, WHY, can't I have a normal relaxing summer? First my mum confiscating my broom, then the bloody birthday party invitations and now sexual abuse! I will be damaged forever having childhood like that! Who knows I might even turn into a delinquent, going around stealing other people's broomsticks, and pushing little girls off merry-go-rounds.

"Harry, are you alright?" Ginny asked me, not bothering to hide her smile.

OK, that's it! I've had enough. I want my boring life back! I stoop up abruptly and hurried to find Ron. As I correctly suspected he was in the kitchen already having his third breakfast. How this guy manages to be so thin is beyond me. When I begged him to leave and take Ginny with him, he looked genuinely surprised, he actually believed that Ginny and I had a pretty good time together. I had to point out that what I've been experiencing could hardly be described as _fun_. Ron didn't look particularly happy, he already promised the twins to have his room for their experiments for the whole week. Honestly I couldn't care less.

"You can sleep in the living room. Just take her away!"

"Merlin, mate, calm down! It's still my sister we're talking about. She doesn't bite, you know." He sounded a bit put out. I must have offended him by not appreciating his sister enough, but I just couldn't help it. She doesn't _bite_ – he has no idea!

Ron finally took pity of me and promised to take Ginny with him. He didn't forget to advise me though to have my nerves checked. It couldn't cloud my good mood, I felt truly happy for the first time in several days. That was until Ron announced his intention to Ginny who had no problem to identify the man behind the whole plan – _me_.

"See you at school then, Harry!" She chided cheerfully, giving me a nasty look in the process. I am seriously considering home tutoring now, Hogwarts are overrated anyway.

28th July

Today started uneventfully (thank Merlin) and I felt truly relieved. But after sitting on our porch by myself for the whole morning having absolutely nothing to do I started to regret sending Ron away. Even Ginny's impertinences seemed less menacing now. Just when I decided to go grovel before my mum to let me have a go on my broomstick again I spotted a dishevelled figure approaching our house. It turned out to be Maggie Hewitt running to me with terrified expression on her face.

"You…", she panted, "I need you!" She grabbed me by my collar and dragged me behind the nearest bush.

"What the…" I was too stunned for any resistance so I just let her push me into our rhododendron fence. Another crazy girl, that's exactly what I need.

"Quick, hide me, please. _Help me_!" She yanked at my hand to emphasize her distress.

That shook me from my reverie; she didn't want to do anything indecent with me she just needed my help. Thank Merlin! My hero-saving instincts finally kicking in, I took her hand and lead her to the nearest shelter available, which turned out to be our broom-shed. I ushered her in and closed the door behind her. Now what? I couldn't simply loiter around that'd be highly suspicious; if I go back to the porch I might be too late if something actually happens here. Joining Maggie in didn't seem like a good idea either. As I was contemplating my options I didn't spot the approaching figure. Until…

"Harry, are you alright?" My dad asked right from behind me and I jumped a feet in the air.

"What are you doing here?" I squeaked. It was a pretty stupid question actually as my father was holding a broom in one hand and polishing kit in the other.

He frowned. "What is going on?" He investigated; to tell the truth he didn't need his Auror senses to find this situation a bit suspicious: I must have looked really stupid standing in the middle of our garden, in front of the broom-shed swaying on the spot.

"Nothing, I just didn't expect you right behind me." I explained, trying in vain to compose myself.

"Ah, sorry." He replied, not sounding very convinced.

We stared at each other for a moment.

"Well, would you let me in now or should I come another time?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." I agreed but didn't move an inch. "I can put the broom in for you, if you want?" I tried my luck.

"What have you got in there?" My dad started to sound annoyed.

A muggle girl. "Nothing!" I replied a tad too quickly.

My father moved purposefully towards the shed pushing me aside. Merlin's pants, how am I going to explain this? I will never see the light of the day ever again.

"Please, don't come in!" I pleaded but it was too late.

My father had already opened the door and was now staring at innocently smiling Maggie Hewitt. Thankfully she somehow managed to flatten her hair, so at least it wouldn't look like I was molesting her in there.

"Hello, Mr Potter." She smiled politely and outstretched her hand ceremoniously. "My name is Maggie Hewitt and I am your new neighbour."

My father glanced at me quizzically, and then he shook her hand. "Nice to meet you Maggie Hewitt." He replied nonchalantly. "I don't know what Harry told you but this shed is not for rent. I wouldn't recommend anyone living in here anyway." He smiled at her.

She laughed politely. "You don't need to worry, I live in the old mansion so I have no intensions to move in here, however cosy it might be." She gestured around our jerry-built shack. "Harry, here," she pointed at me and my heart fell to my boxers, here we go, "was showing me your collection of…em…brooms. Very impressive." She smiled approvingly. "Your house must be very tidy." She concluded brilliantly.

My dad chuckled and then looked at me, unreadable expression on his face. I gulped. I swear I will never ever help any woman again. From this day on I will avoid all women (except for my mum, that would be a bit complicated), who needs them anyway.

"Well, I won't disturb you any longer. It was pleasure to meet you, Maggie Hewitt." Dad winked and as he passed me he whispered: "Good choice, son." I wished the earth swallowed me on the spot. No such luck. Instead I was staring at Maggie Hewitt desperately; hoping if I will blink hard enough it would all turn out to be a hallucination. She just stared back at me, looking more and more uncomfortable under my gaze.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience." She apologized quietly.

"Don't worry." I replied automatically. Just as I was about to ask her why was she in our broom shed anyway, she yelped.

"Oh, no, it's them!" She panicked, grabbed my hand and pulled me into the shed with her. Before I could process what just happened I found myself squeezed in our broom shed along with dad's 15 perfectly polished racing brooms, mum's dust biter and various other junk. It took me about another half-minute to fully realize that I was there also with a rather pretty girl who appeared to be listening something intently still holding my hand. My cheeks started to burn again and I concentrated all of my energy not to brush any other part of my body against Maggie Hewitt, which turned out to be a really tough job as this place was _really_ narrow. It was also very shabby and full of spiders. For about an eternity nothing happened, and I felt more stupid with every second. Then we heard a distant high-pitched squeak. Maggie froze and her grip on my hand tightened.

"What is it?" I asked puzzled trying to figure out what creature could emit this kind of noise.

"Shhh! They may find us here!" She whispered urgently.

They? But who? Who in their right mind would go around searching other people's broom sheds? The squealing got closer and we now could distinguish also giggling and parts of conversation…

"…I'd die without proper shoe shop…"

"…oh, no, look, I just touched a bush and my nail polish is falling apart…"

"…Hewitts must be mental to leave London for this…"

The voices definitely belonged to girls and these girls obviously knew Hewitts. I looked at her and raised my eyebrows questioningly; she nodded shortly, pained expression on her face.

"…poor Megs, living in a hole like that…"

"…did you see the people here? They're positively medieval!"

I frowned. It's true that I complain about Godric's Hollow all the time but it's still my home and no one else is allowed to criticize it.

"…I think they picked up the ugliest people from all over England and installed them here", one particularly annoying voice proclaimed and it was followed by a fit of giggles. I felt my hands curl into fists on their own accord. Maggie tightened her grip on my hand even more effectively stopping blood circulation in my fingers. For such a small person she was bloody strong. She shot me a warning look and I rolled my eyes. As if I'd go outside punching her girlfriends, or whatever they were.

Another painfully long moment passed until the giggling finally reached us. The girls thankfully decided to change the subject and were now discussing what they would wear for the upcoming party.

Just as it seemed that the squeaking group would pass us unaware of our presence, my mother started shouting from across the garden:

"Harry, lunch! I know you are in the broom shed so move your lazy butt here this instant!"

The giggling stopped and so did my heartbeat. I felt the blood drain from my face and my legs suddenly seemed made of jelly. I didn't have enough air in my lungs to answer back that I am coming so knowing my mum I was sure she wouldn't stop shouting until I come. I slowly turned my panic stricken face to Maggie Hewitt who looked exactly like I felt. For a mad second we were just staring at each other not daring to move and then my mother bellowed again:

"Merlin's pants, Harry, do I need to drag you from there?" That woke me up efficiently. I wriggled my hand out of Maggie's grip and slowly opened the door enough for me to get out but not enough for anyone to see what was inside. Maggie was watching me the whole time wide-eyed with her mouth wide open - if it wasn't for the ringing silence I'd swear she was screaming at the top her voice.

When I finally got myself out I was met with 6 curious looks, which observed me from head to toe. My face was on fire and I wouldn't be surprised to see my ears steaming. I tried to smile but my muscles disobeyed and I ended up with the expression one wears when he suffers from toothache. They just studied me as a unfortunate specimen in the zoo. I slouched my way through our garden looking as casual as possible given the circumstances. It felt like eternity till I finally reached our house.

"Finally!" My mum exclaimed, and I heard an explosion of giggled behind my back. Great.

"What were you doing there all day?" Asked my mum absentmindedly. She was serving food to my dad who was positively beaming at me.

"I was holding hands with a girl." I replied lamely, too exhausted to fabricate any convenient lie.

Mum started to laugh, my dad choked on his soup and I watched my last shred of dignity dissolve before my eyes.

"I am not hungry." I announced and crawled to my room. And I will stay there till I find a way to move to another planet.


End file.
